Keeping the Blade
by JB Sterban
Summary: Sam's been having nightmares and Dean's getting worried. Slight Weecest S-14, D-18 , and the titleis irrelevant; it's the name of a song. Rated for language.


Okay, so I got this idea from a dream (and amazingly, I was able to look and see what song was playing on iTunes at the time that inspired said dream.), and it's a bit different from what I originally had, but you know. Whatever XD Well, I've never really gotten an idea from a dream before, so this is a fun, little occasion. At first it was just brotherly love, then I felt deprived of Wincest, so I added the last sentence, mwuhahaha! Please leave feedback for me, good and bad. Good, thank you. Bad, well, you can go fuck yourself. Lol, here it is. ~Jessica Plague

*****

Sam was a kid. Sort of. He was allowed to have nightmares and be scared. Actually, not really. Dean wasn't, and as well, he never had them at all. He promised himself he would never be scared anymore. For Sam.

But Sam was scared all the time. He was fourteen years old. He was ashamed of it. He couldn't tell his father. He remembered the last time he said he was afraid of something.

And he couldn't tell Dean. Dean would almost surely tease him and tell him to be a man.

So, he stayed silent.

Until he started waking up at night, screaming into his pillow. Then, he didn't sleep at all.

John didn't notice. He was too busy with hunting to see the change in his youngest son's demeanor and appearance.

Dean saw it, though. And it scared the hell out of him.

He could hear Sam whimpering at night, but he didn't say anything, knowing that Sam would deny it and tell Dean to leave him the fuck alone.

Well, he thought anyway. Sam wanted to say something so much that it hurt.

In his dreams, he always saw a woman burning in front of him, as if he were looking up. He never asked about it, though, of course, even though it seemed so real.

When it got to be a week and a half with no sleep, and he was starting to get sick and wasn't eating, Dean reached his limit of sitting back and watching his brother destroy himself.

"Sammy? Let's talk for a minute." Dean said after the first two hours of trying to get to sleep. It was almost midnight and Sam was just sitting there on his bed, staring at the wall. Dean couldn't sleep unless Sam was.

Sam jumped at the sound of his brother's voice, but turned to him, nonetheless.

"Dude, what the hell's going on?" Dean asked.

Sam blinked. "What are you talking about?" of course he knew what he was talking about.

"You haven't slept in days, you won't eat, and you won't talk to us!" dean exclaimed, frustrated. "What is so wrong that you can't tell us?"

Sam looked away in shame. "You wouldn't understand." He said quietly.

"Help me understand, then, Sammy." Dean pleaded.

"You're just gonna give me shit for it." Sam said, glaring.

Dean was taken aback. Had he really given Sam that impression his entire life? Well, maybe, but he never meant to. "Please, Sam." He begged, whispering.

Sam looked apprehensive, but the look on Dean's face told him to just come out with it. "I've been having… nightmares." He paused, looking at Dean, who was still listening, his expression thoughtful. "And they're about… mom. I see her… burning. And it scares the fuck out of me so much. And I can't tell dad, because it'll make him upset, and I just… I don't know what to do, Dean." He said, tears pouring down his cheeks, making his eyes sting more than they already were.

By now, Dean had sat on his brother's bed and was holding him in his arms, letting him sob into Dean's chest. "It's okay, Sammy. You have me. I'll never let anything happen to you." He whispered, rocking back and forth. "Come sleep with me, okay?"

Sam looked up through teary, bloodshot eyes. He swallowed thickly and nodded, getting up off of his bed and allowing himself to be led to Dean's. They laid down and Sam hesitated to shut his eyes.

He reached for Dean's hand, but Dean pushed it away. He tried again. "Sam…"

"Please." Sam whispered in a cracked, helpless, terse voice.

Dean's expression softened at the tone and took hold of Sam's hand. "Go to sleep, Sammy."

Sam laid his head on Dean's chest and hesitantly fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

Sam didn't have nightmares that night. He dreamt of Dean.

*****

Love it? Hate it? Lemme know, please! ~Jessica Plague


End file.
